


Life Is A Lie

by MeltedIceAngel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Chenle gets angry and yells, Crying, Depression, Dissociative Disorder (not DID), Failed Suicide Attempt, Gen, He's just terrified, Huang Renjun centric, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jaemin Chenle and Jeno just want to save him, Referenced Verbal Abuse, References to Depression, Renjun is convinced he isn't suicidal, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeltedIceAngel/pseuds/MeltedIceAngel
Summary: He would tell them he isn’t suicidal. The line between I want to die, and I don’t want to live blurred many months prior, but he was still sure that he wouldn’t willingly put a gun to his head.Even though his foot tipping over the edge, taunting the very God he prayed to, was just the same.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun & Lee Jeno, Huang Ren Jun & Lee Jeno & Na Jaemin, Huang Ren Jun & Na Jaemin, Huang Ren Jun & Zhong Chen Le, Huang Renjun & Everyone, huang renjun/everyone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 159





	Life Is A Lie

**Author's Note:**

> I've been in a bad headspace recently. I needed to write to allow those feelings out in a proper, non-destructive manner, so that is how this story came about. 
> 
> Despite this being a very inner look into my own feelings and issues, I wanted to post it. I want you to know that if you're reading this and you feel alone, empty, forgotten, you aren't alone. I see you. If you can't find a reason to love yourself, or to keep going, there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Suicide is never, n e v e r, the answer. Please, reach out to me. Reach out to a trusted friend or family member. Call the suicide hotline. It has taken so many years for me to understand that I am worth the space I take up here, and even though it gets so hard sometimes, it did get easier. Fight for you. You are so worth it. 
> 
> Look out for your friends and your family. You never know what they're going through. I want to push this heavily before you read. Jaemin, Jeno and Chenle did not wait until he nearly fell to help him. They always offered him love and support, but when trapped in that desolate, crushing pain and self-hatred, you forget. You can't imagine that anyone would genuinely want to help you. No one should ever be blamed for another person's suicide. It is a tragedy unlike any other. I do not take this lightly. 
> 
> SUICIDE HOTLINE: 1-800-273-8255 (USA)

Renjun danced on the ledge of a bridge, eyes closed and arms out, coat flapping in the cold wind. It was deep into the night, somewhere around the time even the latest of sleepers in the dorm long turned in. There were no people around to see, and even if they were, they assumed he was too high or too drunk to bother with. 

His foot traced the edge, sharp turn to the side saving him from tumbling off the ledge. He felt the adrenaline rush him, the tingles trailing from the tips of his fingers to the top of his head. 

Alone. Renjun was alone as his shoes scraped the concrete ledge, and the waves swelled below him. Cars trickled by, and heads turned, but no one saw enough of a purpose in stopping. Just as the waves crashed into the shore and receded, the remaining souls left awake fell away from him. 

Renjun allowed his mind to wander, flashes of faces and emotion filling up the crushing emptiness. The pain in his heart was insurmountable. Who was he? What use did he truly serve? A perpetual third wheel, a lonely straggler behind a group so intricately tied the constellations shining above couldn’t compare. 

Always pushed to the side, told to be quiet. Be the pretty face he was hired to be. 

Renjun’s foot grazed the edge again, but the adrenaline had long been drowned out by the hurt and hopelessness. It would be easier. His best was never good enough, and even if he broke, begged for forgiveness, he was still expected to play his part. His anger, his apathy, used as a show. He would be more relatable then. 

The bottle of antidepressants sat unopened, buried underneath piles and piles of clothes he never felt comfortable wearing. Years of blood-stained sleeves and vomit tinted collars. If he was skinnier, maybe they would find him pretty. Perhaps he would be as cute as Jisung or Chenle, and they would love him too. They’d see how much he hurt and want to help him.

The internet told him, promised him, that the pain of hurting himself would squash the emotional pain of what others did to him. That being ignored, being forgotten, being pushed and yelled at and put down would fade away as the blood ran down his arms. It always worked, but only for a moment. Only the first few drops let him breathe, so deep he felt it at the bottom of his lungs. 

He opened his eyes, resenting the sight before him. Quiet streets, breeze ruffled trees, car lights in the distance. The calmness he begged God for each night. The God he wasn’t sure he believed in, always his last cry for help. He begged for forgiveness when those who were meant to care for him refused to give it. 

Renjun thinks of his managers as he tiptoes toward the edge, head leaned over to better take in the water below. How even if they knew what he was doing, there would be no worry. They would be furious, calling him a stupid boy and wondering why he was insistent on ruining his blessed idol life. A failure he was, and a failure he always would be. 

He would tell them he isn’t suicidal. The line between I want to die, and I don’t want to live blurred many months prior, but he was still sure that he wouldn’t willingly put a gun to his head.

Even though his foot tipping over the edge, taunting the very God he prayed to, was just the same.

He wondered why he was there instead of in his bed. Chenle had been sleeping soundly, unaware as his  _ gege _ left him alone. Sweet, adorable Zhong Chenle, treated just as poorly but with the unbelievable strength that his best friend gave him. The option to go home and cuddle his mother, begging for the comfort he so desperately needed.

Renjun looked at the world that turned its back on him. Forgotten, unimportant, lesser than. He was put in a situation in which there was no winning, no favorable outcome. Perpetually pushed down, humbled, and shown he was nothing special. 

The wind pushed at him, and Renjun lost his balance. He didn’t bother to correct himself, body tumbling backward. He would have hit the hard concrete had a pair of shaky arms not caught him. 

“Renjun! What are you doing!?” The voice screamed, a sob ripping from the person’s throat. Renjun closed his eyes and let the tears fall. “You could’ve fallen! You could’ve died! What are you doing!?” 

“I’m  _ sorry, _ ” Renjun whispered, still clenching his eyes closed. 

“I almost lost you, you fucking idiot! I love you, you’re my  _ brother _ , what are you doing!?” Renjun finally pinpointed that pained, hysteric voice. Chenle was screaming at him, cursing and dropping all formalities. Renjun’s heart tore. 

He failed Chenle again. 

“I need you! What am I supposed to do without you?  _ Huh? _ Tell me! What do I do without you?” Chenle sobbed, shaking him as gently as his anger allowed. 

“Jisungie,” Renjun whispered, choking over the lump in his throat. 

“Isn’t here.  _ You’re _ here.  _ You’re _ the one standing on the ledge of a bridge with a death wish!” Chenle screamed. “I need you,  _ gege _ . Don’t leave me. Don’t leave,  _ please _ .” Chenle sobbed violently, burying his face in Renjun’s shoulder. 

“Chenle!” Another voice, Jaemin, called. “He found him!” Jaemin shouted, and suddenly there were two more bodies next to him, frantically checking him over. 

“Oh God, Renjunnie,” Jaemin sobbed, kissing Renjun’s tear-soaked face over and over. “Please, please let us help you. We’re always here. You never have to suffer alone.” 

“Can’t,” Renjun cried, trying to wipe his tears away. He opened his eyes, catching the red-rimmed, puffy eyes of Jaemin and Jeno. 

“When have we ever turned you away?” Jeno begged, grabbing Renjun’s shaky hand.

“Never,” Renjun sobbed. It was true. His family, his members, had never turned him away. Even if they got frustrated with each other, there was still someone to sleep with him at night. Someone to hold his hand as they watched a movie. Someone to feed him homemade food and wipe away his tears. 

“We need to get help, okay?” Jaemin said. “We can’t let this keep going on. It’s not your fault, I need you to hear me. It’s not your fault. We need to get help so you can get better.”

“I’m just overreacting. I’m so stupid,” Renjun sobbed, wrapping an arm tightly around Chenle’s back. He nearly never felt Chenle’s warmth again. Never held him. His little brother in all but blood, alone in that dark, shared room he would’ve never returned to. 

“Do you tell people with cancer that they’re overreacting?” Jeno asked, the bite in his words making Renjun flinch.

“He’s not mad at you, honey,” Jaemin whispered, carding his fingers through Renjun’s hair.

“No, it’s different,” Renjun said.

“Mental illness is just as devastating as any physical disease,” Jeno said. “You’re not becoming a statistic because people are too afraid to acknowledge it.”

“I feel so awful,” Renjun sobbed. “Like I can’t breathe. I hate myself, and I don’t know how to fix it.” Jaemin and Jeno pulled Chenle and Renjun to them, cuddling them both close. 

“We work together. First, you stop hiding your pills and take them,” Jaemin said. “I mean it, Renjun. Take your medicine. I know it’s scary, but it’s a good first step.”

“They make me manic,” Renjun whispered, thinking of the uncontrollable fits of mania that made his moves sloppy and brain erratic. 

“Then we find better ones,” Jeno said. “We keep trying until you’re safe. Okay? We’re not giving up on you.” 

Renjun, freezing from the autumn wind, couldn’t understand his worth. Why he had so quickly given up on himself, but there his friends were, holding him up at four a.m. on a dirty back street. 

“Can we go home?” Chenle whispered, reaching out for Jaemin or Jeno’s hand. They both grabbed for him. 

“Yes. Let’s go home,” Jeno said, helping Chenle and Renjun to their feet. The whole way back, Chenle was glued to Renjun’s side, afraid that if he moved, his  _ gege  _ would vanish. 

Even with three of his most trusted friends by his side, Renjun still had the overwhelming feeling of failure. Had he wanted to die? No. Did he still feel like a failure for being alive?

He couldn’t honestly say no. 

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/meltediceangel (helps pay for medical school)
> 
> I left the opening ambiguous and open because of my own lack of coming to terms with my current feelings. He is okay. He will be okay. Thank you for reading, and remember, the world will never turn its back on you.
> 
> I found it very hard in my current space to write proper dialogue to help Renjun. I don't want it to sound "fake," but unfortunately, a lot of encouraging, loving statements do come off this way. When I am able to grasp it better, I will try to edit the dialogue to sound better.
> 
> Ask me questions: https://curiouscat.qa/gypsyether


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